Took the day off work yesterday. My illness is undiagnosed, but I have heard the term Commoner's Colde, and 'Influenza', bandied around my sick bed in hushed, uncertain terms. On my apothcary's advice I took to my bed at the first symptoms, the like of which include Violente and Volatile rushes of air and bodily humours from the nasal cavity. Such terrible afflictions are upon me, but I shall bear them bravely, and suffer a day of labour, the martyr'd trooper that I am.
One did quaff a bottle (and extra glass) of cheap Chardonnay monday evening, but this had no bearing on the terrible pressure in my skull the next day. Haven't you seen the Sudafed advert? It's not snot - yuk - it's the actual size of my nasal passages.
On monday night's usual pub trip with Poof #1 we were accompanied by Poof #2, recently dumped, in a significant state of shock, and requiring consolation in the form of two bottles of wine and chocolate fudge cake. I made him go through his phone and delete all the messages from the recent ex, explaining that they were just pixels forming words that now mean nothing at all. Perhaps quite hypocritical of me, given that 3 months after the event of my own dumpage I still had a folder of messages from Ex Girlfriend, half of which I'd been transferring from phone to phone for over two years. Note the word 'had', as this was duly discovered by the Poofs, given my known tendancy to do this. That and I left my phone on the table while I went to the bar, and they're nosy bastards. Cue sudden hysterical sobbing from our end of the bar while I read them all aloud for the first time in months. Select, delete, Delete Folder and all its Contents? Ok. Sob. More cheap wine, and a snog from Poof #2, which was marvellous as always, long overdue, and savoured. Plus, it got him over the hurdle of First Kiss as a Dumpee, even if it was with a lezzer.
I have managed to catch up on my sleep, and for the first time in a week had more than 4 hours in one night. There are various reasons for my sleeplessness of late - namely a chocolate pit, a portal, a Vauxhall Corsa, fish food, snuggles and late night incantations - but I won't be going into that right now, as lovely as it all may be.
I'm 2 hours into my working day. Thus far, I've taken a file out the filing cabinet to retrieve a bank statement for a student, noticed she was awarded over £2000 from a hardship fund by mistake, and kept quiet about it. Piping up may mean making calls.
Surely another productive day ahead of me. I shall spend it clicking back to a spreadsheet whenever the boss walks past, sniffing, and watching the clock to time the next Lemsip perfectly. And I'll do some thinking. Lots of thinking. Won't be going into that right now either.
